


Dying Inside

by pyrosgf



Series: Plotbunny Graveyard - Where Ideas Go To Die [4]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 09:51:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrosgf/pseuds/pyrosgf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic was supposed to become an mpreg that later ended in miscarriage, but at this point all you really get is stripper Adam and drag queen Tommy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dying Inside

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.

In the year 2123, the human race had evolved into something else entirely. There was an asteroid that hit the Earth in 2012. It was the beginning of a change that it took humans fifty years to figure out. When men who were born of mothers who’d survived the asteroid hit began to go through puberty, the lines between male and female became blurred. It wasn’t until the first man to give birth to a baby that the unusual consequences of such an event were fully realized. People expected mass death and suffering on the day of darkness, as it was referred to, they didn’t expect for a mutation in our DNA. With this mutation, pregnancy was possible, but due to a number of issues the male pregnancies were hit or miss. Most men miscarried before they ever knew and of those that made it past their first OB appointment, only one in a thousand took home a healthy baby. The DNA that mutated was unpredictable, and so with all that knowledge, by 2100 our scientists had devised two options for men, birth control, and a hysterectomy. All males were now technically considered hermaphrodites because all were still perfectly functional in continuing the human race with women. It was only the gay men in the population that were really faced with the decision in how to control their pregnancy risks. 

That brings us to the present day. A day in which a gorgeous stripper, Adam was living with his elfish boyfriend, Tommy. And by elfish… I don’t mean pointy ears and shoes with bells. Tommy you see, was a tiny little pixie of a man. Don’t let his appearance fool you though because in this relationship, Tommy ran the house if you get my drift. 

Their relationship wasn’t what anyone would’ve guessed by looking at them, but it worked for them. Tommy was amazingly comfortable in his skin and some of his confidence managed to rub off onto Adam. Adam knew people thought he was hot. With the amount of tips that were shoved in his g-string it was obvious, but not even that kind of attention can make you comfortable with yourself if you’re as critical of yourself as Adam. 

All that should help with the rest of this tale. It’s not the happily ever after kind, but not all are, and if you have the guts to continue reading from now, don’t tell me that I didn’t warn you. 

…

The air was muggy in the club, but Adam was on. It was Christmas Day and since he nor Tommy celebrated, he’d picked up an extra shift in hopes people’s Christmas ‘spirit’ would lead to more money in his tiny underwear. 

Adam’s routine was familiar by now. Shower, water as hot as he could stand it, until his skin was flushed. A quick dry off with a towel and out came the oil with the glitter. He rubbed down his chest until in sparkled in the shitty light of his dressing room. The silver barbell through his nipple even gave a twinkle. He pulled on his g-string like he had a million other times before and settled it into place and then on went the breakaway, black leather chaps. The final piece to the look was an old concert tee. When Adam was a kid his dad had introduced him to music that was around prior to the asteroid. Bowie had made Adam feel things he’d never felt, so he’d had a Bowie tee made to honor his passion to sing. Singing had never panned out for having enough credits to eat this day and age so Adam used the next best thing, his dancing skills. The Bowie shirt hugged his chest and Adam smiled at his reflection in the mirror. 

“Accessories, makeup,” he mumbled to himself. 

With one hour until the show started he needed to hurry. His quickly painted his eyelids with shades of purple, lined his eyes with the deepest black, and finally drew scrolling designs across his face. Once he was satisfied he added white contacts, ran his fingers through his hair, and called it done. Adam was the only one in the show who danced barefoot.

…

“Please give it up for Baby Bowie…” Farrah Moans, the drag queen host of the show, crowed. 

Adam was also the only stripper in the show who used music that came out prior to the day of darkness. He’d managed to get his dad to load a medley of Bowie tunes to Apollo’s servers and as the first strands of Life on Mars filled the room he slunk out on stage. He heard a gasp throughout the room as the crowd got their first look at his new routine. It was different, but as Adam fell to the floor and writhed against it like a lover he heard the murmurs of approval throughout the room. 

It wasn’t until the first thrumming beats of Fame that Adam made it to his feet and when he did he tugged his tee over his head and flung it on the side of the stage. His chest now bare he rolled his hips and ran his hand over his cock accentuation the bulge that his g-string was barely concealing. This was what he loved, the energy flying at him from the crowd, catcalls filling his ears. It was such a rush. 

When Let’s Dance began Adam took it for what it was, the beginning of the end. The crowd clapped along enthusiastically and wailed when he tugged his chaps off to pool around his feet. This was definitely his favorite part. He gave the crowd a sexy smirk and turned his back to face them. A teasing snap of the side of his g-string and he turned his head giving the crowd an innocent look before gripping the underwear and sliding them seductively off his hips. He was hard, so fucking hard, and when he turned back to the crowd he did a full body roll and hit his knees just as the lights went down. 

The lights came up just as he was getting back to his feet and credits littered the stage. He bowed collected his clothing and scurried off stage knowing full and well that Farrah would pick up his tips and return every credit to him when she came off stage. 

…

He’d showered again, washing away the glitter and makeup from his face. Now he sat curled on the couch in his dressing room. Adrenaline was still railing through his system and his dick had yet to take notice his performance was done for the night. He idly ran a finger over the tip, his lip caught between his teeth. He knew it was wrong, knew he shouldn’t touch it, it wasn’t his to touch, but it felt so fucking good. He curled his fingers around the shaft, squeezed, his groan breaking the silence. 

Adam sighed to himself, knowing he was only torturing himself further. He released the grip on his dick and sat on his hands in order to avoid punishment, just in case Tommy decided to walk in on his little show.

It wasn’t five minutes later that Farrah traipsed into his dressing room, hand extended, offering him the credits he knew he’d earned. “Tommy said to tell you that you better be prepped for him, whatever that means.” Farrah said, and strutted into Adam’s bathroom without waiting for a response.

Adam didn’t cringe exactly. It was what he’d been waiting for since Tommy had gotten him all hot and bothered before he’d showered for the show. At the same time he knew this wasn’t going to be the sex he wanted at the moment. While quick and dirty was okay sometimes, tonight Adam’s skin burned for so much more. He just hoped Tommy was in a good enough mood to be persuaded. On the off chance he wasn’t Adam took heed to Farrah’s words and grabbed the lube he kept stashed between the couch cushions for occasions just like this. On autopilot he laid back, legs spread obscenely wide, and poured the slick substance over his fingers. His fingertip traced his hole for only a second before slipping inside. With practiced ease he managed to add a second finger and a third within minutes, stretching and coating his insides for his lover’s cock. Before he removed them he nudged his prostate making himself shiver in anticipation. Maybe fast and dirty wasn’t such a bad idea tonight, Adam thought to himself. 

When Tommy exited the bathroom with the hint of eyeliner still lining his eyes Adam startled. The look in Tommy’s eyes reminded Adam of the exact reason he wanted it soft and slow tonight. Tommy’s gaze was that of a feral cat, intense and calculating, stalking toward Adam. Adam wasn’t scared of Tommy exactly, but that look had Adam shrinking back. 

“Nice to see Farrah warned you.” Tommy’s voice was cold, and lacked the tenderness Adam knew Tommy possessed. But this Tommy, the Tommy who slipped back into place when Farrah resigned, was always harsh and unforgiving. 

“Yeah, but… baby I was hopin’… maybe we could head out… earned quite a few credits tonight. We could stop on the way home and have dinner and some drinks. You know how pliant I am when I’ve got some alcohol in my system, baby.” Adam’s voice was whisper soft.

“I do love it when you’re like that,” Tommy said his finger twitching against his chin as he thought about it. 

“I know and sex is so much better in our bed,” Adam tempted. 

Tommy made a noise of agreement, eyes still roaming Adam’s body hungrily. He could see Tommy’s resolve lessening by the minute though and he relaxed a little. 

“Clothes, quickly, we’ll go to Odyssey for dinner and then I’ll have you all to myself at home. At least then I can make you scream for me, Adam, and we won’t be disturbing our fellow patrons.” Tommy grabbed up his bag as started throwing on his street clothes and that got Adam moving. 

“Think they’ve heard enough of me,” Adam murmured and pulled on his jeans. His boots quickly followed and by the time Tommy was dressed Adam was still hunting for his top, which had apparently grown legs and walked away.

“Fuck it, no one’s going to pay any attention to you walking around without a shirt. Come on.”

…

Dinner at Odyssey made for a quick efficient way to get Tommy so tipsy that he would be the calm pliant lover Adam couldn’t get enough of. It was a nice dinner and the drinks were downed like water to the point that when Adam stood as they got ready to leave his vision swam. 

When Adam and Tommy spilled into their car Adam quickly shifted the vehicle into auto drive. The engine purred and soon they were on the road. Tommy mumbled softly, alcohol-warmed lips pressed into Adam’s neck, and a shiver ran down his spine. Yes, this was the Tommy he adored. Tommy relaxed and dazed slightly in his alcohol induced stupor. 

Minutes passed unnoticed and Adam melted when Tommy sucked a mark into his collarbone. Adam had never been submissive, it wasn’t in his nature until Tommy, but with Tommy things had always been upside down. 

“Baby,” Tommy murmured into Adam’s skin. 

“Mmm?”

The next thing Adam knew Tommy’s long fingers were brushing his chin and using the touch to angle his face down for a kiss. It wasn’t the fierce needy kiss he was used to, but seeking and devouring all the same. His head spun as oxygen was lost, not willing to pull away just yet. Again Adam felt a hand this time it crept down his bare chest and down to brush the bar through his nipple. Adam groaned into Tommy’s mouth and Tommy pulled away and a lazy smile formed on his lips. 

“Like that, do ya? Love it when I play with your nipples,” Tommy’s speech was slightly slurred.

Adam realized then that Tommy was drunker than he’d originally intended, and he knew that he too had consumed more of the heady concoctions than he’d meant to. He pushed the thought away in favor of arching his back. He pressed further into Tommy’s teasing touch. 

“Love it when you touch me.” Adam’s voice had gone breathy.

They both jolted forward when the car came to a stop outside their place. The house was small and rundown, but it was theirs and together they spilled clumsily out into the cool night air. The gentle breeze did nothing to clear the buzzing in his head, but it felt good on his overheated skin.


End file.
